A Lonely View of Heaven
by Xrost
Summary: He came back. Afterwards she realised that she expected it the same way one expected the tide to roll in or the sun to rise again.
1. Chapter 1

He came back.

Afterwards she realised that she expected it the same way one expected the tide to roll in or the sun to rise again. There was a sort of inevitability to it, though she could hardly say why. Easier to explain the push and pull of tides or rise of the sun.

It was in a Laundromat of all places. Kerry was doing that poor college student thing that was more birth-right than anything in her part of the world. Eve must have seen him first, because Kerry heard her let out a long, low breath. She looked up; and there he was.

Ethan – no, Michel's mouth pulled upward in amusement that was not wholly un-predatory. Still the same then. In looks, because vampires couldn't change; and in nature possibly because he wouldn't.

Kerry let her face break into a dazzling grin; shorn of anything but delight. "Teddy!" she cried and threw herself out of the hard plastic Laundromat chairs and at him. In the instant before her body connected with his, she had the impression that fleeting uncertainty darkened his eyes. Then she hit him hard enough that it hurt and her legs were around him and she was holding tight, hugging and gasping out some sort of a greeting broken up by her laughter.

His body stumbled under her weight, half-turning from the way she'd slammed in to him, even though she knew that it shouldn't have, so he still had the presence of mind to act human in front of company.

After a moment, she let him put her down, smiling up into his face. Oh yes, he was going to be furious. That just made her laugh more. It probably wasn't safe. She knew that she definitely didn't fit into the category of child any longer; but surely he wouldn't try anything with her friends right there. "Let me introduce you," she breathed, throwing an arm around him as she started to turn back to them.

He caught her gently by her elbow, watching her face. Assessing her for weaknesses. How very vampire of him.

She let him study her, amusement playing around her mouth before she reached up with both hands and pushed them through his hair. "Your hair," she said, letting disappointment seep into every syllable uttered, even though his hair had not changed. "What happened?"

His mouth smiled, his eyes did not. Catching her wrists gently, he pulled her hands away from him. "A barber happened. I see you're not entirely unfamiliar with the breed." As he spoke, he released one of her wrists to touch the fringe of her messy pixie-cut. He sounded reproving; as though she had hacked those unruly curls off specifically to hurt him.

It made her smile, flicking her head to toss her fringe out of her eyes. "Do you like it?" She made sure her voice was cocky, verging on arrogant; as though she was confident he would love it. The truth was that she didn't care what he thought. She was wearing her scruffiest pair of track-pants with the unfortunate hole high up on the right thigh from where Eve had dropped a lit cigarette, her hair hadn't been brushed since the previous night and she, yet again, had neglected to throw on a bra. This was obviously another vampire game. Wait until the already vulnerable human felt even more defenceless and swoop down to rub it in; well, Kerry was one up on Michel in that mind game. She didn't do vulnerable anymore. At least, not for him.

When he didn't immediately answer, she half-turned back to the two girls curled up in the corner with bags of gummi bears. They were peering over their Statistics textbooks and Eve at least looked as though she wished that she hadn't neglected her make-up. "Eve, Sarah, meet Teddy."

Sarah creased her nose, and Kerry could tell that she was trying to figure out how to get rid of Michel before he ruined their study session. She was generally easy-going, but the exam was tomorrow. If it was one of Kerry's exams, she would have been practically shoving Michel at the door; but that might have been more due to the fact that she neglected her classes far too often.

"So you're not doing laundry," she pointed out, her tone dry. He didn't have a hamper and she thought that he might have tried to be more prepared if he was going to start pulling crap on her. At least make it look authentic.

He smiled, slow and easy. It wasn't the smile she'd grown used to in her few days with him; the one that was all dark corners and sharp teeth. This was the one he had first used on her, when he'd been trying to make her believe he was a freshly-scrubbed college kid. "Nope. Avoided that nightmare for today. Did you want to grab a coffee?"

"Study," said Kerry, shrugging and making a face. She shot another quick look over her shoulder to grin at Sarah, and added, "Also, laundry. Give me your number. I'll call you after the insanity that is exam week and the mandatory week of sleep right after."

His eyes widened before narrowing. He wasn't used to being hindered, and Kerry was willing to bet that there was no way he was going to become used to it. Leaning back into the Laundromat's doorframe, he stretched his lithe body, giving her a perfect view of the play of muscles up his side. His thin T-shirt did nothing to hide what was underneath and, damn it all, that still worked on her. She felt her cheeks heating up. "Mandatory week of sleep," he murmured once she was sure her blush was a neon-bright pulsating red. "I could help you with that."

"Ah," she said, trying not to consider the undertones of that. Then she leant forward and caught him, her short nails digging into the back of his neck as she drew him closer. "Much as I believe that your presence could put me to sleep; unnecessary in exam week, Michel." She kept her voice so soft that she could barely hear the words, but vampires could hear heartbeats in rooms that they were not in. He could keep up. "I'll give you my number," she said, voice louder and cheerful as she pulled away and backed up towards her bag. "You can call me."

It took her a moment to find her phone among the scraps of note paper, pens and sticks of gum. When she had it in her hand, she scrolled to her own number and walked back to Michel, holding the phone out so that he could see the screen.

He smiled, looking exasperated. There was something in his eyes that reminded her of that first Laundromat they'd been in, when they'd both been trapped and terrified. Or maybe he hadn't been terrified. It was hard to say with a vampire. "Would your friends mind if I hung around for a bit?" He stretched again, not to embarrass her this time. This time, she thought that he was trying to figure out the right way to talk to her. He shrugged, just the barest hint of his shoulders moving. "It's been a while. If we don't catch up now, who knows what might happen?"

Kerry was watching Michel's eyes as he spoke, he didn't say the last words, but she knew that they were there. Dark as a curse. _Who knows what might happen…to you?_ And hell no, he was _not_ threatening her. Then she saw his eyes flicker, and all at once, she realised that, no, he wasn't. But someone was; and whatever it was was bad enough that Michel was here, refusing to leave and without even a clothes hamper as a thin but realistic cover story. "Huh," said Kerry. "I thought you'd never ask. I'm trying to study for my Medieval Demonology class and you know what I'm like with dates and numbers."

"No," said Michel, tilting his head in a way that he'd never done around her before. Likely he was going to be smug about the fact that she was studying demonology later. "What are you like?"

"Well, I'm brilliant," said Kerry, frowning at him. "But I was trying to make you feel included."


	2. Chapter 2

They settled into the uncomfortable plastic seats; Kerry dragging her demonology tome across the bench to herself. The textbook was a heavy but comforting weight in her lap. It shielded her against the immediate necessity for action. Buried in the witch-hunts of the 14th century; she didn't need to out-think Michel, didn't need to worry about what danger she or he might be in. At nineteen she had defences that she hadn't even considered at sixteen. She'd spent years making sure that no matter what happened, she would be prepared for it. And she was; but she needed to adjust.

She didn't have time to before Michel leant right into her personal space, reading her book over her shoulder which was now pressed against his chest. He wasn't as cold when she was expecting it, but she elbowed him away from her anyway. He knew that she needed space; he wasn't going to give it to her. So much easier to keep her compliant if she was confused and couldn't get her thoughts together.

Pulling her legs up, she propped her feet on the edge of her seat and balanced the textbook on her knees. It wouldn't exactly stop Michel from reading over her shoulder, but it would stop him from seeing her expression. He leant his shoulder against hers. He was being gentler and less sarcastic than he would have been had her friends not been around; probably trying to play the role of Teddy until he didn't have to anymore, and he could shake the persona off like an unwanted skin. She had a feeling he wouldn't be forgiving when he did.

Plans; that was the way to go. She could make her own now, didn't need to trust blindly in someone else to get her out of trouble. There was a whole arsenal of resources at her disposal; all she had to do was think.

"Jeanne d'Arc." Michel's voice was soft and sounded like a warning. She had expected him to try and distract her another way when getting into her personal space had failed so she didn't flinch.

"I'm studying witchcraft. Joan was burnt for heresy," Kerry pointed out.

Michel leant back in his seat and smiled at her, the points of his canines just visible. "You're the expert," he said as though indulging a childish whim and traces of his accent clung to his words this time, almost too subtle to catch.

Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, Kerry frowned at him. He was French, old enough that he'd stripped his accent from his speech. Joan had died in 1431. That would make him…Kerry shook her head. Too old. He was messing with her again. "If you're not going to help me study, help them," she said, waving a hand at Sarah and Eve.

"Oh no, I'd rather help you." He sounded preppy and innocent, as though he still belonged to the daylight and Kerry creased her nose. She was going to have to give her shield up and face him, and the situation, again sometime though so she snapped her textbook shut, earning an annoyed whine from Sarah who was more deeply buried in her statistics than Kerry had been in her history.

Leaning across Eve, Kerry caught the packet of gummi fruits, clawing her short fingernails into the slippery plastic as she drew them to her like a prize. "Over here," she said, shoving at Michel's shoulder until he relented enough to move to the opposite side of the Laundromat with her.

The full front was an expanse of windows that let the sun in during the daytime and the streetlights at night. Kerry sat on the bench under the windows, staring up the darkened street. She didn't know what she was looking for, but hoped her instincts would help her out if it came to that.

"You moved just about as far from me as you could get." Michel must have been talking about her move to college, though his tone was light, unconcerned. He was impossible to read in a mood like this. Possibly he really didn't care and was trying to make her think that he did. Possibly he was angry about it, or it amused him. There was no reason for him to feel anything about it so Kerry decided that he didn't. No point discussing something that didn't matter. She played with the hole in the thigh of her pants and kept watch.

Michel followed her gaze; glancing into the shadows of the street outside before looking back at her. Three years should have given her enough time to teach herself to twist truths into lies that were so pretty they could almost be believed but she realised that she still had nothing on him. Even the way that he was holding himself was making her believe that everything here centred on her; and she knew Michel better than that.

"So what is it?" she asked, leaning forward and smiling so that her eyes would glow even under the bright fluorescents of the Laundromat. Even after all this time he'd understand that she was asking what was stalking her. When his mouth quirked up into a grin, sharp and cold now that her friends couldn't see his face, she held up a hand. "No, don't tell me. Give me a hint."

Her evident delight in being hunted might have fazed him, but he was through giving her the satisfaction of seeing it. He matched her enjoyment with a less savage smile and curled up beside her, still reminding her more of a cat than anything else. Leaning close, he spoke softly when he was level with her ear. "Wait and see."

"Hn," Kerry nearly purred. "It's just like Christmas."

That made him laugh, breath brushing the ends of her hair, but Kerry couldn't tell whether he was surprised or just teasing her.

Across the room the first machine beeped out its signal that the cycle was over. Michel lifted his head and glanced across at it.

"Mine," said Kerry, getting up just as the second machine started beeping. She caught up her washing basket from Eve's feet and began piling her mish-mash of damp clothes into it, trying not to think about what she had had in this load. As it was Michel raised an eyebrow at the conglomeration of lights, coloureds and darks that had been in the same cycle together. He might have also been scandalised that she was washing towels with her normal clothes, but she wasn't really sure how much vampires knew about laundry so maybe she was just being over-sensitive. "Alright." Throwing her textbook on top of her clothes in the basket, Kerry straightened and looked at her friends. "You guys coming home or staying longer?"

Not even looking up from her book, Sarah waved Kerry away.

"Gotcha." Kerry hoisted the basket up against her hip and held it there with one hand. With Michel showing up and all she might have warned them to be careful walking home, but it could hardly help. As careful as they might be, it wouldn't prevent them being hurt if someone really wanted to hurt them. And it was just a bit patronising to ask them to try and prevent something that they had no control over.

"Would you like me to carry that?" Michel asked as they reached the street outside. It was colder than Kerry had thought it would be and she shivered a little.

"I'm perfectly competent, Teddy," she said, letting her words take on a hard edge.

He snorted. "Teddy. Really?" His tone had its own hard edge; one that seemed laced with poison for good measure. She'd been right, that name had really pissed him off.

She smiled at him. The shadows of the streetlights suited him far more than the brightness of the Laundromat had. They sharpened his features; highlighting the angles of his face, deepening the hollows. They softened his eyes. He looked beautiful. As always. "I like Teddy," she said softly. "It's a name I've always sort of kept, you know, for future use."

Michel seemed to consider this. "In case you ever had a son," he said, not sounding pleased with the situation.

"Oh God no," said Kerry, staring at him in horror. "In case I ever got a puppy."

Michel sighed. "What is this? What have I done wrong now?" He sounded exasperated rather than hurt.

"For God's sake, Teddy, I'm delighted that you're here. Do you think I'd give my future toy poodle's name to just anyone?"

He laughed at that before scowling as though he wasn't amused that she'd amused him. Maybe it was different when he was laughing at her jokes rather than at her. "This is because I dragged you into that adult shop last time," he said darkly.

Kerry hummed a reply that he wouldn't really be able to take as confirmation or denial. Silence pushed conversations unlike almost anything else and so she lapsed into one; seeing if it would push Michel. Here he bested her; throwing her a mocking smile once the silence had gone beyond what was polite. By the time they reached Kerry's street, her skin was crawling with discomfort and the desire to say something; anything. Being quiet had never been her strong suit. "You win," she said, laughing easily as they reached the front steps of her apartment building. "Again, as though anything's new. Now, thank you for walking me home…"

"And coming inside," added Michel tone cool and certain.

Tilting her head, Kerry studied him.

"We're not like in the movies, Kerry. We don't need an invitation to get inside."

"It's a vampire that's after me then," said Kerry.

A shadow crossed Michel's features; annoyance that he'd given that much away, maybe? Then he shrugged, face open and self-assured.

Resting the laundry basket on her front rail, Kerry glanced down at her wrist to check the time. Still pretty early, considering. There'd be more than enough time for some unknown vampire to find and kill her before getting back to its day-time hidey-hole.

"You're so human," said Michel, the contempt in his tone enough to rend a person's confidence asunder.

Kerry wasn't just any person. "Thank you," she said, shoving a hand into her bag and searching for her keys with the tips of her fingers.

Michel didn't speak until she slotted one of them into the lobby door-lock. "Having a vampire around may not appeal to you, but better me than one you don't know."

"You are one that I don't know," Kerry pointed out, pushing the door open while anchoring the basket with her other hand. She jerked her head to motion Michel through and he walked in. "As it is," she said conversationally as she followed him. "I'm more worried about you making fun of my room than of you fanging me."

"Fanging is not a vampire term," Michel informed her, walking across the checked tiles to press the elevator button.

Kerry gave him an arch look. "I'm not surprised."

Michel returned her look with an indulgent one. "Go on," he said, tone smoky and dark and so many other things that she shouldn't be wanting.

Dropping her basket on the floor in front of the lift, Kerry frowned at him.

"You set that line up for me to walk into. Imagine I've walked into it. Why are you not surprised?"

Kerry smiled at him. She hadn't had anyone who could keep up with her when she was like this for far too long. She'd missed it, she realised. "Language," she said. "Changing, evolving, growing language is living. Vampires are dead."

Michel laughed. "The implication being that we're not capable of coming up with a new vocabulary?"

The lift pinged and the doors creaked laboriously open. Kicking the laundry basket along the tiles and into it, Kerry threw a bright smile over her shoulder at him. "If the glove fits, Ted." Even though she knew it didn't. Vampires had to be able to adapt if they were to survive; she was sure that their vocabulary would adapt with them.

When Kerry had finally kicked the laundry basket into the elevator, Michel raised an eyebrow at her. She was pretty sure that the eyebrow was some sort of negative commentary on her house-keeping skills, but she ignored it. It wasn't as though her confidence was based on her ability to do the laundry. Her life may have been one of laborious study and noodle-eating poverty but she had not descended to that level of weirdness.

Michel tensed as the lift stopped on Kerry's floor. The change was so slight that had she not been studying him surreptitiously, she would not have caught it. As it was, she waited until the elevator doors had opened and let Michel leave before she did; all too aware that all she had on her that might be used as a weapon were her keys.

There was nothing out of place on the landing. It was the same cracked tiled floors and faded walls that it always was. Kerry carried the basket to her door and slotted her key into the lock with her free hand, moving fast in case she needed to.

When they were both safely in her apartment with the door locked behind them, she let out the breath she had not known she'd been holding. A glance across at Michel told her that it hadn't escaped him. She smiled sharply.

"So, this is my place," she said, dropping her laundry basket once more and bending to grab a shirt out of it. Michel had already left her to check the rooms. "Feel free to look around," she called after him, a little dryly.

When he came back she'd hung most of her clothes on the fold-away clothes dryer they had and had draped the remainder over the backs of the kitchen table's chairs.

The look he gave her was one of annoyance, as though his delicate sensibilities had been hurt by Kerry's inability to do laundry in the way God had intended. She ignored the look in favour of searching the cupboards for something to eat. "You do know that the Laundromat has dryers, don't you?"

"Two packets of noodles, half a block of chocolate or one chocolate bar," said Kerry, finding a nut-bar that probably belonged to Eve and snatching it up.

"No thank you," Michel replied, frowning at her as she turned back towards him.

"I wasn't offering," said Kerry. "That's what you can buy with the money you save from using the Laundromat dryers. Two packs of noodles, or half a block of chocolate, or a chocolate bar."

Narrowing his eyes, Michel studied her. He probably didn't have to worry about mundane things like finances. He definitely didn't have to worry about his next sugar fix. So this was probably all terribly banal to him and chances were that he'd decide he didn't mind if she died after all, if all she could spend her time doing was hanging clothes around the apartment.

"Have you eaten?" she asked.

"Are you offering now?"

Kerry smiled. "I'm being polite. We can go out somewhere if you want to eat. I'm guessing you have some sort of method that doesn't necessitate being at someone's house?"

Michel shrugged. "Of course."

A horrible thought occurred to Kerry. "Eve and Sarah are not food," she said.

That made him smile. "No need to be jealous, I have no plans to drink your friends."

"I'm not food either," said Kerry.

Michel's gaze swept across her; devouring slowly. Had she been younger, she would have fidgeted in discomfort. As it was, she had trouble keeping still. "No," he said finally, voice soft. "You are most certainly not food."


	3. Chapter 3

Michel stayed until the night was nearly over, not talking to Kerry or even watching movies or listening to music with her. Gods, no, that would be far too convivial for someone like him. He read a book he found on one of her shelves; correcting it in red pen while she went back to studying for her exam. It might have been a bit over-done, she thought. Him showing up with literally nothing save the clothes on his back. It would make her think the situation was serious and that danger could well be lurking just around the corner. Maybe that had been what he'd been aiming for. Kerry wondered whether anyone was even after her before shaking herself and reading a passage on wood carvings for the third time. Her flatmates had come back home sometime during the night, laughing and talking too loudly for the paper-thin walls. It had made Kerry relax a little, even though she hadn't known that she'd been worried about them.

Finally Michel stood up and stretched. Not something that he needed to do. It was probably learned behaviour for a vampire; something to keep humans from suspecting the truth. Kerry wondered whether he was using it on her out of habit or to be polite. Being around someone who didn't need to move would probably get intimidating pretty fast.

"It's late," he said.

Kerry checked her watch. It was. She always had an idea of what time the sun rose. It was one of those things that she figured people started checking once they learnt that vampires existed. The people lucky enough to find out and live, that was. The time of sunset; the time of sunrise. Kerry kept up with those times like some people kept up with the weather; and dawn was closing in fast now. Michel must have found a safe place very close by if he thought he'd get back to it in time.

"Be here when the sun sets," he said, heading for her room door. "And keep your door locked. I'll come back as soon as I can."

She shrugged, but she was watching him closely, looking for a sign that he was playing her. If he was, he was too good at this to show it. He left without saying good bye.

Collapsing into bed gratefully, Kerry pulled the covers up over her head. As a college student she considered it her duty to keep crazy hours, staying awake into the night and sleeping through the mornings. She doubted that she'd enjoy being awake all night and sleeping away afternoons as well as mornings though. Michel probably wouldn't care if she slept while he was there but she thought that he'd find a way to use it against her.

Eve prodded her awake some time later that day. "This is ridiculous," she said. "It's two in the afternoon."

Rolling over, Kerry eyed her sleepily from half-under her pillow. "There had better be a good reason for this sudden and rude awakening," she said. Instead of her voice sounding menacing as she had intended, it came out rusty.

"Well, aren't you just a bundle of sunshine? I thought you'd be happy and after-glowy after having had that gloriously hot man in here last night; but you're mostly just grumpy."

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with the palm of her hand, Kerry sat up. "It's not like that," she said. She'd seen the gleam in Eve's eyes when she'd looked at Michel though and, if nothing else, she was going to keep her friend away from vampires.

"Oh," said Eve, mouth turning down in sympathy. "Well, no wonder you're grumpy."

That was so far away from the mark that Kerry laughed. "How did the exam go?" Somewhere along the way she had become like Michel; too good at using words and gestures to manipulate people and situations. She asked the question too quickly, with more interest than she should have shown and, as she had intended, Eve's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Aha," she said. "There is more to the story than you're letting on. What is it?" She sat on Kerry's bed and snuggled in, smiling in anticipation.

Kerry laughed again and kicked at her. "Nothing, nothing. There's nothing!"

Eve smiled wickedly. "So I can have him then?"

With a gasp of feigned outrage, Kerry whacked her friend around the head with a pillow, mussing up her freshly straightened hair. "Over my dead body!"

"Ooh, it's like that is it?" asked Eve, teasing and understanding all at once. She shrugged her shoulders. "If it helps, he seemed pretty oblivious to anything around you so I doubt I would have gotten far."

"Agh," said Kerry, but she relaxed because after that conversation there was no way Eve would think about Michel even if he tried something with her.

"Are you getting up?" asked Eve. "Because Sarah's cooking buttered popcorn and we're going to watch Star Trek."

"Voyager?" asked Kerry.

"Deep Space Nine."

Folding her arms across her chest, Kerry pouted at Eve, who was far too used to this sort of behaviour to relent. The buttered popcorn was the decider finally; and the girls settled into battered old couches to start the second season soon after.

Had they watched Voyager, Kerry might have been able to lull herself into a happy medium between being entertained and being complacent. With Deep Space Nine, however, her thoughts went over the night with Michel as she licked butter off her fingers.

The fact that he was evidently staying within a five or ten minute drive or walk made her think that this whole thing was some sort of elaborate prank. The idea that he could get a house or apartment so close by but he didn't have time to put together a clothes hamper for the Laundromat or take a book for the night ahead, didn't match up.

On some primal, instinctual level, she had always known that he would come back. With or without an excuse. It was why she'd moved so far away to go to college. The distance hadn't been meant to deter him, and she hadn't thought that it would. Moving so far from her home had been to protect her family when he came back; not to protect herself. She never wanted him in the same room as Ian. Maybe vampires didn't hurt children, but her baby brother was growing so fast.

By the time they gave up on old TV shows the evening was beginning to darken the skies, and Kerry was convinced that all of this was just another vampire game. She didn't know why he was playing it and didn't much care.

"I'm going to head out for a bit," she told her friends. "Teddy's coming over later so tell him I went for a walk if he gets here before I get home."

"There's hard to get and then there's rude," said Eve dryly, reclining into the myriad of multi-colourer cushions on the couch, mouth twisting wryly.

Smiling at her, Kerry lifted a nonchalant shoulder. "There's also sending a message for old times' sake," she said. "Pretty sure he'll get it."

Because she was still in her PJs, she changed into jeans and a thin shirt, pulling her shoes on in the lift and tying her hair back as she headed down the street towards the park. She had climbed the hill in the middle of it and was leaning against the beech tree there; looking down at the city twinkling into life, when he found her.

It wasn't the easy, surface-friendly meeting of the day before with all barbs tucked neatly into pleasant words. In some ways Michel coming up around her, swift and silent as a ghost, and jabbing her clavicle so that she fell back against the tree felt better. More real; more them.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he snapped, which was back to the not being them, because he shouldn't have cared if she was.

"Uhm…no," said Kerry, rubbing the junction of her throat and chest. "I'm trying to have my usual nightly wander. Peaceful-like." She kept her voice steady, but her heart was pounding faster.

He let out a sound that might have been part snarl and Kerry clenched her fists, making sure the tree was still behind her so that she was covered from one side at least. She didn't think he'd hurt her, but she didn't want him catching her off-guard either. "What part of 'Someone is trying to kill you' doesn't make sense to you?"

She smiled sharply at that, letting her irritation show. "Michel, really."

The look he gave her cut even in the darkness. "Michel really, what?" he asked, voice all hard angles and dark corners that she did not trust.

Propping her hands on her hips, she glared at him. "Someone's trying to kill me after three years?" With a toss of her head, she laughed. "Come on! I mean, I get it. You're a vampire. You live for like ever. You must get bored and this was a fun game the last time so why shouldn't it work again?"

Michel stared at her, frustration etched into every line of his body. "Kerry…"

"No! Three years, Michel," said Kerry, shaking her head as she inched around him. "I hate to sound like my old grannie, but it's done and dusted. I have a whole new life in a whole new state. I haven't said anything to anyone…"

Hand darting out and closing around her wrist, he jerked her back so that she slammed into his chest. "It isn't about how much time has gone by! And this isn't about a game. Three years may seem a long time in your shallow little lives but it is nothing to us. One breath, one sigh. And you may jump states to get away from your past; we jump countries! So stop acting as though you know vampire politics better than I do. The heat has died down and someone is after you."

Pulling her hand out of his grasp, Kerry stepped back and folded her arms across her chest, frowning at him. In the past when she'd called Michel out on his lies, he'd admitted them. "So what? I'm just meant to believe you?" Unfolding her arms, she flicked her fringe out of her eyes. "You want me to trust you?"

"I doubt that's an option for us," said Michel, sounding disgusted at the prospect of trust.

"Good, because honestly I don't even know why you'd show up to protect me. If someone wants to kill me, why get involved? Why not leave me die?"

Michel gave her a disappointed look, shaking his head at her. "Do you really consider me to be so devoid of honour?"

Kerry raised her head and looked at him. "A thousand times yes." When he held her gaze without responding, she tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "There's something that you're not telling me."

"Always," agreed Michel, tone dry at the idea that she could even think otherwise. He shrugged his shoulders, looking bored. "Consider who you are talking to. What reason could I have for wanting you alive?"

Self-preservation was Michel's ultimate goal. It trumped everything else life had to offer. Kerry couldn't quite supress a shiver that juddered along the length of her spine. "You think that this guy is going to torture me to get information about you. You're here to protect yourself; not me."

Michel smiled as though he was relieved that she was smart enough to figure that out at least. They were in a darkened park, well away from the footpaths, with no one else around. Morning was still far enough away that Michel would have time to hide a body and get back to safety before it dawned. Even so, Kerry tilted her head back. "So why don't you kill me instead? Why protect what could turn out to be a liability?"

"Because it's you," said Michel sharply. "I've let people die before but not you."

Licking her lips nervously, Kerry studied him. His eyes were dark and he looked cornered; and he was lying. She was re-learning to read him; adding the experiences of her past few years to the task. He was better at keeping eye-contact when he was lying, like he'd forced himself until it gave him away as well as refusing to make eye-contact could. She scuffed her sneaker into the grass, considering the conversation. If she was a possible liability for Michel, she was also a possible asset. She knew what he was and had no intention of telling anyone about him, or of harming him. And her humanity made her capable of walking the daylight. That sort of thing could be valuable if handled well. Those facts only served to make Kerry more doubtful that she was in any danger. If he wanted a way back into her life and he wanted her to do things for him, then making her think he'd saved her was the best way to go about it. "This guy that's after me," she said.

Michel held up a hand. "I'm perfectly capable of handling it if you just do as I ask."

"Yeah. I'm not great at following orders," said Kerry. "But about the guy after me; there is just one of them?"

Michel nodded. "Unless he's called in back-up." The idea didn't seem to be one he'd considered yet and he frowned before shaking his head. "He's probably alone."

"What does he look like?"

"Kerry."

"Well, how am I meant to recognise him?" demanded Kerry, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

"You're not." Michel ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Kerry wondered whether he missed the days when she'd been sixteen and too scared to argue back. "He can't hurt you during the day; and, when the sun goes down, you need to make sure that you're with me."

"That sounds really dull," said Kerry.

"Humour me," replied Michel. "I'm good at survival. I've been doing it a long time."

"Fine," said Kerry. She was back to not knowing whether he was playing her or not, because if he was lying, he would have given her a description of the guy to make it seem more authentic. "But if you get me killed you owe my dad a new car."

The previous night Michel had been caught off-guard by her flippancy, now it merely irritated him. "You think he'd consider that a reasonable exchange, do you?" he asked shortly.

Kerry snorted. "Please. He'll get more use out of a car than he does from me."

That made Michel's eyes darken.

"Stop," said Kerry, almost laughing. "I'm kidding, Michel! Jesus." She smiled at him affectionately. "But not about the car," she said. "He really does need a new one. Something reliable and fuel-efficient."

"You're not going to die." Michel sounded amused and exasperated all at once.

"Ugh," said Kerry, creasing her nose. "Then I'm going to have to save up and buy my dad a new car."


	4. Chapter 4

It was strange strolling with him under the starlit sky. A little too much like a date even if he didn't have any intention of touching her. "I'm going to need to feed tonight," Michel told her as they walked back towards her apartment.

She made a face at him. "Too much information."

Michel didn't glance at her. He hadn't looked at her since they'd left the park and Kerry suspected that he was trying to make her feel as though she didn't matter. "I liked you better when you were sixteen."

"I'll take that as a sign that I improve with age," said Kerry. It was easier than she expected, settling back into this; enjoying his company, even though she pretended she didn't. It was almost their thing; feigning less emotion than they felt, but it worked.

"You haven't eaten either," said Michel, stating a fact rather than asking a question. Kerry wondered whether he knew how irritating that sort of thing was. It was probably why he did it. "I'll be able to feed at a restaurant. You can eat at the same time."

There was probably no way to say this without offending his delicate sensibilities, so Kerry just came right out and said it. "No money."

He did cast a disdainful sidewards glance at her. "I have plenty."

Kerry shook her head emphatically. "That's not how this is going to work."

"If this is a pride thing…" Michel drawled.

"Yes," said Kerry.

"Well, get over it. I'm not going to live like a pauper because you have dependency issues."

"Maybe I wasn't clear," said Kerry. "You can spend your money on anything in the world that you want. So long as it's not me." She flashed him a grin and tucked her hands into her pockets. "A bar," she suggested. "I'll buy a coke or something."

He narrowed his eyes at her before shrugging. "That works better, actually."

Kerry shrugged. "So long as drunk people aren't nutritiously deficient." She didn't expect him to reply. It went against his nature to give away any of the secrets of his species so she walked on without looking at him.

Routine was not a term that could describe either of them. Michel was too cautious to make habits of his actions; Kerry was naturally spontaneous and had trained herself to accentuate that particular trait. But by the time Saturday arrived, Kerry and Michel had a system. She'd make sure she was somewhere safe before sunset and he would show up soon after. They varied the safe place; Kerry picking places out of her old baseball cap or Michel tossing darts at Kerry's corkboard to see which student voucher they landed on. His aim was near impeccable so when it was his turn to choose they went somewhere that he approved of even if he tried to feign that it was chance.

Even if they met in her apartment after sunset, they almost never stayed there. Michel needed blood and Kerry didn't think he liked her run-down home. Her energy wasn't as limitless as his though and by the end of the night they were almost inevitably back in her apartment with her abandoning Michel for sleep. All of her café shifts that week fell during the day and classes for college were out during exam week, so she hadn't needed to take Michel to work or class thus far.

Saturday night was probably going to be a game-changer for them. Kerry had managed to keep her plans from Michel, suspecting that he'd try to alter them if he knew of them. He figured out what was going on pretty quickly when he arrived at the apartment just after dark to find Eve and Kerry throwing clothes around the lounge-room in a bid to find something to wear while Sarah edited the playlists on Kerry's laptop to suit her tastes.

Catching a sparkly, black top mid-air, he raised an eyebrow at Kerry. "Door was open."

"It's Saturday night," said Eve, as though that explained everything.

"Door is always open on Saturday night," Sarah explained when Michel frowned at Kerry. "Clubbing night. Half our friends get ready here."

Kerry didn't bother glancing across at him, holding a yellow bandage dress against herself and tilting her head at her reflection in the full-length mirror that was mounted on the back of Eve's bedroom door. "You're early." Not that he was. When he wasn't sleeping he was with Kerry, but she figured that it was better to give her friends the impression that they alternated their meeting times rather than deal with questions later.

"You are too white to pull that colour off," Eve told her before Michel could object to clubbing night.

She was right. Yellow gave Kerry's complexion a sickly mustard tint rather than its usual pale pink glow. With a sigh, Kerry tossed the dress over her shoulder and caught up a tight grey top.

"Mind if I talk to you?" Michel asked. His tone was silky and Kerry creased her nose, not wanting to fight about this.

Crushing the shirt into a ball she pegged it at Sarah's head and led Michel to her room.

He shut the door behind himself and leant against it, running his gaze over Kerry when she turned and lifted her chin to stare him down. "There's no way to keep you safe if you go clubbing," he said, calm and reasonable.

Kerry had been expecting him to be angry and to tell her how stupid she was being. He must have realised that that tactic would only make her more determined to go. "We're going," she said.

Michel took a slow breath, studying her. Probably trying to find a chink in her armour; a weakness that he could pry at until she fell apart and agreed to whatever he wanted.

She held her ground, letting her gaze rove across him; mapping planes and hollows. People got used to beauty; but she doubted that she'd ever get used to him. He wouldn't let her. She could never find her balance with him; he twisted his personality around her, constantly keeping her unsure of him. Sometimes she felt that he could work her like a piece of clay; crushing her into whatever shape he wanted. Around him, she was never sure if she was bending to her own will or to his.

"Kerry," he said, his accent trickling into his voice so that the pronunciation of the r's was in throaty, liquid French rather than English. Kerry tried not to shiver. "You can't consider it worth the risk."

"I do," she said. He didn't understand how unlike him she was. As valuable as her life was to her, she would never trade her freedom for it. Saturday nights were tradition. She could physically live without them but she would not allow herself to hide because some vampire might have been threatening her. She still wasn't sure he existed.

Michel studied her once more, eyes narrowed in consideration. He nodded once finally. "With stipulations," he said. This time his voice was firm, brooking no argument.

"What stipulations?" asked Kerry.

Michel rocked back on his heels, scratching his jaw with the back of his thumbnail. Kerry wondered whether he was trying to figure how far he could push the stipulations, or whether he was trying to figure out just how stupid she was and what stipulations might be needed to counter-act her recklessness. She didn't help him out; keeping her stance and expression just the same.

"No drinking," said Michel, probably starting out broad with the intention of narrowing things down.

Kerry lifted a shoulder and let it fall. She never drank. Not when she knew vampires lived in the world feeding off oblivious college kids.

"Jeans," said Michel, his gaze snagging on her bare legs.

"Whoa, buddy. I draw the line at you telling me what to wear. Also, what to do and who to speak to."

"If you fall in jeans you won't skin your knees," said Michel as though it was a perfectly valid argument.

Kerry laughed at him. "We humans are fragile, but not that fragile," she said. "I can run with skinned knees. And I don't fall." She smoothed the front of her mini-skirt down.

A crease appeared between Michel's eyebrows. He really wasn't used to being thwarted. Kerry wished that they had some neutral ground that they could work with, but his trust issues had pretty much shattered any faith she might have been able to place in him. Giving in wasn't her style; even negotiation came hard to her when he was around. He was too good at getting the upper hand. "Are you so vain that you would place looks above safety?"

Pretty much any delusions of negotiation dissolved at that. Kerry laughed shortly, shaking her head with incredulity. "Really? You went there?"

Michel shifted languidly, mouth curling into the glimmer of a smirk.

Kerry shrugged at him. "Go on," she said. "Take another stab. You're dying to."

"Dying is not on my agenda," said Michel. "What's the saying? Been there, done that?"

"Cute. Want to hear another saying? It's about hell and fury and women scorned."

Nudging him aside, Kerry opened the bedroom door. He caught her arm before she left the room, leaning in close. "You come home with me tonight," he said, voice low. "Well before dawn."

"Michel," said Kerry. "That is a given." Then she shrugged his hand off and walked back into the lounge-room. ""I'm borrowing your stuff, Eve," she called, not pausing as she continued on to Eve's room.

"I've got a sequined mini-skirt!" Eve exclaimed, emerging from a pile of clothes at the other side of the couch with a glittering lime-green scrap of material.

"Ew, no," said Kerry.

"It shimmies," Eve pointed out, shaking the offending garment.

"I'm in your room. I can't hear your disgusting mouth words!" Kerry yelled, slamming Eve's door shut behind her.

When she emerged, Eve was wearing the skirt and shimmying her hips to Shakira.

Kerry glanced across the room. Michel was still leaning in her doorway, watching Eve with speculative interest. "We will never speak of this," she told him, almost yelling over the music.

He laughed at that and Kerry could see a glimmer of what it was she'd fallen for last time. The bits of him that were real. Though, if she was to be fair, even the lies were a real part of him now. She wondered what he had been like as a human. Perhaps he'd been a liar even then, and becoming a vampire had just made the habit more pronounced.

The apartment door opened and some of Sarah's friends walked in, holding up bottles of various alcohols to show what they'd scored. They made a face at the song playing and went across to Sarah to rectify the situation.

"It's not my fault," she was saying. "Eve wanted Shakira."

Hips Don't Lie was probably one of the most mind-blowingly awful songs the decade had had the misfortune to produce but it did make Kerry want to dance. It was a relief when Nathan switched to a different playlist.

She collapsed onto the couch with the stack of shoe boxes that she'd liberated from Eve's room and began going through them. "Eh?" she asked finally, holding up a box for her house-mates' opinions.

"Perfect," said Eve.

"You will die," said Sarah.

"I've never seen you in heels," said Jessica.

Both Eve and Sarah shot meaningful glances across at Michel, evidently assuming that he was the reason for the change in fashion. They were so right, and also so wrong.

Kerry slipped her foot into the configuration of spiky eight inch heels, straps and buckles. She wasn't even sure what went where, but they had looked the most dangerous and she always over-reacted.

"Hn," she said happily, turning her foot to the side to study the effect. Sarah was right. If she wore these, she would die.

"You're embarrassing yourself," said Eve. "Here." She came around the couch and sat at Kerry's feet, pulling the straps into place and buckling them tight. Kerry felt a little like a horse being shod. The process was probably as strenuous.

As Eve started on the second heel, Michel lowered himself into the sofa beside Kerry. The cushions dipped, sending her into his shoulder. He merely shrugged backwards so that she was leaning against his ribcage.

"No," he said, so softly that she doubted that Eve heard.

She smiled at him.

He glanced at the shoes once more before frowning. "This is because I called you vain."

"Mm-hmm," agreed Kerry, and she could be smug too when the situation called for it. "Call me names, and I'll live up to them."

He bit into his lower lip. "Lesson learned. So stop."

She smiled again, but didn't take the heels off until she had tottered around the lounge in them a few times. "Torture devices," she told Michel, collapsing on the couch by him once more. "They feel like the fires of a thousand hells."

Eve and Sarah never headed to the clubs until after nine so Kerry and Michel retreated to her room when the others started drinking and lay on the bed. Kerry painted her nails and wiped them off before redoing them with different colours and Michel picked up another book. She had found a claret mini dress to wear and had swapped Eve's heels for ballerina flats, which had placated Michel somewhat but he still disapproved of the dress.

"Something will chase you. You'll fall over, you'll skin your knees, and then you will die," he predicted darkly, turning the page of his book.

"If that does happen," said Kerry. "I hope you'll take comfort from the fact that in the end you were right, and I was wrong." She noted though, that he had said 'something' rather than saying the vampire's name. Perhaps he didn't want to give her a name and it had been intentional.

Michel laughed softly. "I will take great comfort from that," he agreed, ruffling his free hand through her hair. Kerry might have thought that the gesture was meant to appeal to her emotions, but it was a little too rough, as though he wasn't entirely sure of himself.

She stretched, acknowledging that she needed to stop reading so much in to everything. Michel would manipulate her in any way that he was able. Any affection he showed would be geared towards making her do what he wanted. She couldn't let herself think that affection might actually be affection, even if she doubted that he'd try to hurt her.

It was late when they reached Sin Grotto; Michel raised his eyebrows to show that he was not at all impressed with the name of Eve's favorite club ever. Kerry shoved him laughingly, "The music's good, and the dance-floor's big."

"Really," said Michel. That could have meant a lot of different things, but Kerry thought that it probably meant that he didn't care and that he was judging her for willingly setting foot in this questionable establishment.

Eve knew the guy on the door so they went in straight away.

"They're very accommodating," said Michel, but Kerry could tell that he'd read the situation correctly by the dryness in his tone and the speculative way that he was studying Eve. She was by far the most gorgeous out of the three flat-mates and, despite the abundance of gorgeous girls frequenting Sin Grotto, Eve was the one that guys fell over themselves trying to meet. Security was no exception. They always let her through.

Before Kerry could reply, Sarah grabbed her arm and dragged her out to the dance-floor. Eve was there already, in their usual spot on the platform near the bar, their group churning around them in an array of bright colours. They looked like a kaleidoscope; the fabrics of their clothes swishing together and coming apart as they danced. Closing her eyes, Kerry let the music wash over her. Then she began to move.

Her hair was sticking to her makeup and her heart was pounding when she saw Eve look past her, her eyes darkening. Panting and half-laughing, Kerry tilted her head in question. "What?"

"Don't look now," said Sarah. "But a guy just came in that would give your Teddy a pretty mean run for his money."

Kerry frowned and turned. She saw who Sarah was talking about straight away. The guy was hot; silvery-blond hair and eyes so light blue that they looked like metal. He had wider-set shoulders than Michel; was just generally bigger. He was heading for their group. Kerry shot a knowing grin over her shoulder at Eve before getting back to dancing. The boys always headed straight to Eve, like clumsy moths to an incandescent flame.

A new song had just started when someone tapped Kerry on the shoulder. She turned, half-expecting Michel. The blond was looking down at her; even more stunningly gorgeous up close.

"Uhm…" said Kerry, thrown completely off-guard. This wasn't how things were meant to go. Gorgeous guys, average guys and below average guys were all meant to apply to Eve for attention. Kerry was meant to be left to dance in safe obscurity with Sarah and her other friends.

He smiled, casual interest and charm rolling off him in gentle waves. And suddenly Kerry knew exactly what was going on. She smiled back at him, warmth pouring off her in response to his proximity as her heartbeat picked up its pace. "Dance with me," he offered, less of a question than a statement.

Shaking her head, she laughed. She was pretty good with nerves, but right now she was hyper-aware that both Eve and Sarah were less than a meter away and could hear everything. Her palms felt clammy and if she didn't calm down she was going to have trouble breathing. "I am nowhere near that easy. You are going to buy me a drink. With lots of alcohol."

The left corner of his mouth twitched upwards in amusement. "And after that you'll be easy?"

Kerry creased her nose. "Doubtful. After that I'll mostly be drunk." She glanced over her shoulder at Sarah and winked. "If you see Teddy, let him know I'm at the bar?"

She laughed and shrugged and the blond took Kerry's arm, leading her away.


	5. Chapter 5

The hand on her elbow was unnaturally cold. Kerry had gotten used to Michel's coldness; thought of it as one of his genetic quirks. She didn't mind it on him, but on this new vampire it felt wrong. Her mind flicked through all of the very few vampire secrets Michel had given away. This was nothing new. After her previous vampire experience, she had drummed everything Michel had let slip into her memory. Every time she was out after dark she went through the list in her mind. Damage the body enough and a vampire could not recover, expose it to sunlight, stay with big groups of people.

The bar was full, and for now that would be enough. Kerry was not going to let this vampire get anywhere near her friends. If he couldn't lure her outside, he might figure that Eve or Sarah would be good enough.

He tried to steer her to a quiet corner of the bar, but Kerry snagged a bar-stool that overlooked the club. It wouldn't have taken them more than a minute to get to the bar, but she was surprised that Michel hadn't stepped in yet. She doubted that he'd trust her enough to run the risk of her actually leaving Sin Grotto with the blond. He knew that she didn't entirely believe that a vampire was after her, and most girls would go anywhere with a guy that looked like this one. It occurred to her that the vampire might not have been working alone after all.

If there were two of them, one would have been providing a distraction for Michel while the other worked on getting Kerry away from the club. There was the possibility that Michel had even left Sin Grotto, if that was the case. He knew that Kerry would stay with her friends, so if he'd seen another vampire he probably would have followed it.

"I'm Ree," she said, turning to smile brightly at the vampire. A name that wouldn't make him think was derived from Kerry, but if one of her friends let her name slip he wouldn't be suspicious. Her flirting skills were sadly lacking but she angled herself towards him, letting her gaze skim across him. Slipping her hand casually into her bag, she searched for her phone with her fingertips. This vampire didn't have the same knack as Michel did for making her think that the sun and stars had nothing on her. But then, Michel had gotten her when she was young and naive and in some ways maybe he'd always be able to manipulate her emotions.

The vampire smiled and reached out to touch her jaw-line. The pressure was gentle, but Kerry was well aware that he could crush her throat with significantly little effort. "Lucas," he said.

Kerry's hand found her phone in her bag. She had had the forethought to put Michel's number in before they headed out and, in theory, if she pressed the call button he would answer and hear the conversation. The function keys on her phone were set to silent, but Kerry wasn't sure whether Lucas would hear the dial tone and realise it was coming from her bag. There was so much outside noise that in the end she took the chance and pressed call.

Flicking her head to the side, she gave the vampire a simperingly bright smile. "Do you come here often?"

The question evidently bored her companion. He leant back against the bar and looked around, brows drawn together in concentration. Probably trying to think of a way to lure her out of the bar that wouldn't set off too many alarm bells in her head. If she'd been drinking, he would have been able to scent it on her and he probably would have just asked; expecting her lowered defences to accept. Though it seemed abnormal for a vampire not to have a plan.

Lucas checked his watch. He must have been worried that whatever distraction he'd set up for Michel was running out. It was hopeful. Kerry wasn't in any danger, so all she had to do was wait and hope that she could stall the vampire until Michel got back. He seemed pretty certain that he'd be able to take the vampire down, even if Lucas was a good deal bigger than him.

"So Lucas," she said easily, hoping that Michel had answered his phone. "Vampire or werewolf?"

Lucas turned his head to stare at her, the blue of his eyes glinting in the low light.

Kerry reached for a straw and twirled it between her fingers. "I'd rather be a werewolf personally," she said. "But I'd peg you as a vampire man. They're meant to be gorgeous; vampires."

"Odd conversation starter," said the vampire. By his surprise it was evident that he hadn't considered that she might know anything about vampires. Kerry wondered what he thought her relationship with Michel was based on if not her knowledge of his secret. It probably wasn't smart to play games with a vampire who wanted to destroy her in the hopes of finding more out about Michel but Kerry tended to throw caution to the wind when her curiosity was involved. If there was a way to drag Michel's secrets from Lucas then all bets were off. Kerry didn't care if Michel was listening on the other end of the phone line either.

She shrugged. "I could ask about the important things, but men tend to get offended."

"The important things," Lucas echoed. His attention was on her now, in a way that it hadn't been before.

Leaning back on her barstool, Kerry slanted a sharp grin his way. "How much do you earn? What car do you drive? Are you good in bed? You know the important things in life."

He laughed then, voice low and husky. It was a surprisingly nice laugh that Kerry disapproved of whole-heartedly. Much easier not to think of this guy – vampire – as having any redeeming qualities. He was going to have to die; and Kerry didn't want to think of him as a human being. She didn't care if it was cowardly to think of him as a monster and kill him before he showed better qualities. Life was bad enough without taking on added guilt.

Lucas checked his watch again. It made Kerry uncomfortable. He didn't seem to be trying to lure her away from the club so she thought that maybe he had another game plan. Michel wasn't back yet, and she was sure that he would have answered his phone and heard enough to know that she was with Lucas. "I thought I recognised one of the friends you came in with," he said finally, tone cautious as though he wasn't sure about his footing in this conversation. "The guy with dark hair."

"Teddy," said Kerry, realising that he was curious about Michel too. It fit with the theory that he'd want her alive. She wondered at herself a little; that she didn't even shudder at the realisation. Her mouth didn't go dry with terror, she didn't feel physically ill. It wasn't because she was so amazingly brave either. The idea of torture would horrify her later. Right now she was in the middle of a vampire game. She'd learned to play with the best and had kept it up, lying to friends, family, strangers until it felt as natural as the breaths she drew. Michel would be so smug if he knew how he'd changed her.

The quick glance Lucas shot at the ceiling wasn't lost on Kerry. She followed his gaze and her spine turned to ice. Now she knew what the plan was. And she had no idea how to survive it. Her brain hiccupped over the knowledge before she forced herself to relax. Michel would be on his way back from wherever he'd been led. If she bought herself enough time, Michel would find her.

Turning away from the vampire while she gathered her scattered thoughts, Kerry tapped the bar for the barman. He moved across to her and she asked for a tequila shot. He poured her one and she motioned for him to leave the bottle before pushing the shot across to Lucas. When he tried to protest, she waved the objection aside. "What's the saying? Bros before hos?"

"You're out of context," Lucas told her, giving in and taking the shot with good grace.

"Context is over-rated," said Kerry, leaning backwards to borrow a cigarette and lighter from the person beside her. It was amazing what a girl in too much make-up could get away with in a club if they smiled.

"You're nervous," said Lucas, sounding suspicious and watching her closely as he lowered his shot glass.

"Agitated," Kerry corrected him, fumbling with the lighter. It could have been part of the act. Sometimes she wasn't even sure. She swore when her fingers crumpled the cigarette and tucked the lighter into her palm to smooth it out. "I was trying not to think about Teddy," she said.

That snagged Lucas' interest again. "What… Is he..?"

Whatever question he might have eventually settled on was lost in the rising peal of the fire alarm and the sudden spray from the sprinkler system.

It was what both she and Lucas had been waiting for. His glance at the ceiling, a little too long to be reflex had made her realise that he was watching the sprinklers. She could think of only one reason that they would interest him. She held her left hand out, palm up, laughing in feigned disbelief as the water cascaded down on her, plastering her hair to her face and no doubt making her make-up leak. Lucas stood, his arms coming around her as the other clubbers began rushing for the doors. Buffering her against the crush of bodies. Kerry leant into him. If she protested or tried to push him away he'd just crush her into compliance. No one would notice.

"This way," he said as the crowd began to thin. He didn't pull her towards the main doors, but towards the back of the club, the staff entrance. "I had a friend in a public building fire," he said, talking fast, as though he was nervous. He wasn't as good a liar as Michel. The nervous came off sounding more like impatience. He thought that she trusted him, that she'd believe him because it was him. Michel didn't make mistakes like that. "The main exit was so blocked up with people he would have died if he hadn't used the back doors."

Kerry couldn't smell smoke. She doubted that there was a fire. Someone had tricked the sensors into thinking there was one though if the sprinklers were going. If it was just a tripped alarm, they wouldn't be.

"Where do the back doors lead?" Kerry choked out, stumbling along after Lucas. She knew that they opened onto an alley but if Michel was listening he'd need to know where to find her.

"Does it matter?" Lucas would probably keep her compliant as long as he could. If she was with him willingly he didn't have to worry about anyone else seeing them. Sarah and Eve would be looking for her. Kerry hoped that they didn't find her. Vampires were not the type to be tolerant of unwelcome distractions.

They reached the staff kitchen, now slowly flooding, and Kerry stopped. Lucas had been so sure of her co-operation that she slipped out of his grasp easily. The door to the alley was only ten metres further and Kerry was sure that a car would already be waiting there for her. The thought made her shiver.

Lucas turned, eyes glinting in a way that human eyes did not, as though they were lit from within. He wasn't pretending to be human now, or to be kind. He moved toward her like a wolf closing in on its prey.

"My friends," said Kerry, backing away but refusing to run.

He reached out to grab her. "They'll be fine."

She ducked away from his hand, moving towards him into the circle of his arms fast as she swung the bottle of tequila up, smashing it against his ribcage. The contents sloshed against him, soaking into his shirt. His torso hadn't gotten too wet in the sprinklers because he'd been hunched forward over her. Even so, Kerry was already following through, flicking the lighter open against the alcohol.

It took. Kerry had to flick the lighter on twice but she was fast and the flames made the vampire stumble backwards with a hiss of pain. Not enough to kill. With the sprinklers going it wasn't even enough to hurt him much. It bought Kerry a fraction of time though. She shoved past the vampire, grabbing a steak knife off the kitchenette bench as she reached it.

When she spun back around Lucas was straightening, shrugging his ruined shirt off broad shoulders. Even if he hadn't been a vampire, the knife was far too flimsy a weapon. She tested the blade with her thumb, wincing when it nicked the skin. Sharp enough to kill; she just didn't have the height or strength for it.

Plan B it was then.

The vampire studied her, mouth quirking upwards in amusement. "What do you think you'll achieve with that little knife?" he asked.

Kerry spun it in her hands and then held it to her throat. "I'll admit that dying on a knife that still contains traces of peanut butter is less sophisticated than I might have hoped but, if you come closer, that is the unfortunate way that I will go." She thought that she was still lying, but it occurred to her that she might not have been. There would be benefits to death before torture. Her family would have her body at least, while they would probably never find her if she went with Lucas.

"Michel told you what he was," said Lucas. He sounded shocked.

"Who?" Lying to the last. Trying to protect Michel even if she had no idea what she was protecting him from. Would it have mattered if he'd told her he was a vampire?

"Teddy." Lucas was impatient now. But he wasn't moving toward her. Whatever information they thought she had on Michel, they must have really wanted it. Lucas would try to take her alive. That meant she still had a chance.

"Teddy's a lying scumbag," said Kerry. "But he did say that he thought he'd seen someone following me, which just sounded stupid until you showed up tonight. God damn it, it still sounds stupid. Why are you following me?"

"How did you know that I was?"

Kerry stared at him. "You didn't even look at Eve," she said.

"Maybe she isn't my type," said Lucas, looking bewildered by her reasoning.

"Then I would have to assume that you were gay," said Kerry dryly. She didn't even see Lucas move. Instead of trying to get to her and wrest the knife away before she could use it, he hurled a bottle at her upper shins so hard that it took her legs out from under her. She lurched forward, flinging her hands out to break her fall. Only when the knife skittered onto the damp carpet did she realise her mistake.

Lucas' boots came into view and she rolled away from him. He kicked the knife across the room before she could reach it. Trapped between him and the kitchen bench, Kerry realised that she hadn't gotten around to a Plan C, and the best that she could come up with on the spot was to kick and scream.

She pushed herself back into the bench and, when she didn't feel his hands grabbing at her, opened her eyes.

Michel was studying her, his eyes cold and very vampire. He let go of Lucas and the bigger vampire's body slumped heavily to the floor. Kerry tried to think of something clever to say, failed and gave up. There was a spray of blood across the wall beside her and she wondered whether Michel had intentionally turned the vampire away from her to slit his throat, or whether it had been luck that she wasn't now soaked in blood.

Even as she watched, the sprinklers swept the blood away. It might be noticed later, or they might get lucky.

"Your knees are skinned," said Michel, sounding as though he may never forgive her for it.


End file.
